DISPLACED
by abernaith
Summary: The new, revamped, restructured story v2.0 Helm's Deep: In the midst of battle, Legolas and Aragorn get struck by lightning and are transported to a place where they meet Sirius Black, who drags them back to his world. [HPLotR Crossover, hints of SLASH]
1. Chapter 0: Prologue

**DISPLACED**  
_Revamped. Refurbished. Rejuvinated._

Description: Post-OotP and heavy spoilers for HBP. This may be considered an alternate universe fic of the latter. Hints of slash abound, mostly A/L, and then maybe even some RL/SS.

Synopsis: During the Battle of Helm's Deep, a freak lightning bolt strikes Legolas and Aragorn. They are transported to a realm between worlds, apparently the same timespace-continuum where Sirius Black fell beyond the Veil. Upon encountering one another however, the two Middle Earth guys are unwittingly dragged out of the Veil and into the Harry Potter universe. Thrown unwillingly into a world of magic at war, the two are forced to cooperate with the Order of the Phoenix if they are ever going to find their way back home.

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_**Prologue**_

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_Thy soul was cast beyond defence  
Of stalwart Light and goodness sure  
Thy heart accepts the consequence  
Of falling into evil's lure_

_The help of friends thou dost repel  
Thy solitude will be your fall  
For in your soul a traitor dwells  
Your hand will break the fates of all_

_The phoenix rises to the sun  
On hour of the blackest dawn  
The powers of the good shall run  
To fight, or flee, though all are pawns._

The only thing that Aragorn could remember, before the darkness took him, was the sensation of falling. He knew he had slipped, perhaps on some orc blood, or maybe even a mud puddle, and the rain stung his eyes as he stumbled over a fallen elf, with a sword thrust into the chest of an equally dead orc. He briefly recalled the rumble of thunder in the distance, and the bright flash of lightning that blinded him momentarily, and quite possibly caused the distraction to which he believed he had literally fallen for. There was a brief flash of gold as well, just before the darkness, and the feeling of tightness around his chest, as though someone were holding him against their own self. Whether or not his senses deceived him then, Aragorn was yet to discern. The sound of rain had faded away, and he was wrapped in total darkness. For now, he only wished the blanket of peace and warmth around him would last.

- - -

Dawn was yet to come, and the battle was at its fiercest. Legolas of Mirkwood had never seen this amount of bloodshed before; but though it struck a chord of terror in his bright heart, he knew he did not have the luxury to stop and reflect in the thick of the killing. He steeled himself as another blow swung his way, and quick as lightning he met it with his singing blades. Two orcheads flew off above the melee, and more dying screams followed afterwards in rapid succession. Briefly, Legolas wondered where Gimli the Dwarf was. He had lost count of the beasts he felled some time ago already, though he was still very sure that he was ahead of the stout warrior in this contest. It was Estel though whom he was more worried about. He had just recently caught sight of the Man, then pushing his way to the nearby woods with a small party of Rohan soldiers. Now that the elf had ridded himself of the orcs in his path, he made for a swift sprint to the nearby trees where more sounds of clashing steel could be heard.

He spotted Aragorn ganged upon by two orcs and three mountain men. The odds were obviously against him, but he was holding well. Thunder rumbled in the horizon, and from somewhere close above them, a fork of lightning shot down from the sky. It was only with an elf's intuitive nature that Legolas saw the danger shooting like an arrow straight onto his friend, and in a heartbeat he had dived into the fray. As he landed, he made quick work of the two remaining foes with his knives, and then he flung his arms out to grab Aragorn tight by the chest and took them both down with the remaining momentum of his fall.

Oddly, as the blinding light seeped through his eyelids, all he could think of was Estel, and how much it felt good and warm to be so close to him.

* * *

Disclaimer: LotR characters borrowed here without permission belong rightfully to J.R.R.Tolkien, and the folks at NLC who gave gorgeous faces to most of them. HP characters belong to J.K. Rowling and the folks at WB who made Snape gorgeous through Alan Rickman. I'm the kind of fanfiction writer who corporate vampire lawyers loathe to suck blood from: a combination of AB+ (for All Broke, Positive.) I'm really powerless about your all-mighty legal, er, stuff, but also totally penniless.. Okay...got carried away with my p's there, but here's another one: Please don't sue!  



	2. Chapter 1: The Hollow Place

**DISPLACED**

Description: Post-OotP and heavy spoilers for HBP. This may be considered an alternate universe fic of the latter. Hints of slash abound, mostly A/L, and then maybe even some RL/SS.

Synopsis: During the Battle of Helm's Deep, a freak lightning bolt strikes Legolas and Aragorn. They are transported to a realm between worlds, apparently the same timespace-continuum where Sirius Black fell beyond the Veil. Upon encountering one another however, the two Middle Earth guys are unwittingly dragged out of the Veil and into the Harry Potter universe.

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Chapter 1

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_The heroes of a distant land  
Sworn enemies of faceless Dark  
Shall pass through Destiny's cold hand  
Like water struck by thunder's mark _

_And fey the Powers of the Light  
Bade them return to flesh and breath  
And both shall earn the gift of life  
Whence they restore a man from death  
_

When Legolas woke, he felt something blunt and painful digging into his rib. As his mind settled into consciousness, he realized that it was Aragorn's sword crushed between them that was causing this discomfort. He found his arms still clutching his friend in a very tight embrace. He tried to remedy this, but his small movements only caused his companion to wake up.

"...Legolas?"

"Estel," replied the elf.

Slowly, the two disentangled themselves, until they were lying flat on their backs, shoulder to shoulder. And then it was Aragorn who realized they were both submerged in total darkness.

Legolas bit back his surprise when his friend seized his hand in a rattling grip.

"Tell me, Estel," Legolas whispered, a half-smirk in his voice, "are you afraid of the dark?"

Aragorn's grip softened, though the elf sensed the jest was lost on him. He could just about see the man's face--lips pursed in a frown, eyes closed and breath hitched slightly. For a moment, he thought he felt Aragorn's eyes upon him, in a fierce, spine-tingling stare, but when he shifted to face his friend he only caught the small rattling sigh that escaped his lips.

"Forgive me... " He muttered, and then reached out a hand and said, "Friend, shall we stand and have a better look around?" Aragorn took his hand with a firm grip, and they helped each other up. The man's palm against the elf's cool skin was sweaty and clammy by comparison, but Legolas could feel his friend's pulse calming down, slowing in time to his own. And he felt relief for this, for them both, for not having to wake up alone in this dark place.

It is difficult to explain how one's feet can be disoriented by the ground. But it was something the two certainly experienced, and without further ado, Aragorn started to fall. It was Legolas, with his hand gripping Aragorn's own like a steadfast rock, who reeled the man back to his senses. And his feet found solid footing, not on the floor, but on his trust of his elven friend's own confidence of his bearings.

"It sounds like a hall," Estel remarked, and his words echoed into the dark unknown as if to validate his claim. "Moria..." was all Legolas said, and both unconsciously shuddered at the memories it brought. Although Gandalf had been returned to them, their flight from the Balrog in the darkness of Khazad-dum still drew a sharp pain from the elf's heart.

A bright spot caught the periphery of the man's vision, and all of a sudden it seemed it had been there all along. "Look, Legolas!" he said, pointing out the pinprick of light, seemingly no bigger and no less farther than a star. With his pointing finger, Aragorn traced the faint path that the light had etched in the darkness, all the way back to where they stood.

"This is a road," said the elf, as if to speak it would make the ground under their boots more tangible, more assuredly solid. "And from what I can see, the light is too long-shaped, and too narrow, to be a proper star."

"Then perhaps it is a door?" suggested Aragorn. "Perhaps," replied Legolas, and he shrugged.

In silent mutual agreement, the two headed down the path towards the speck of light in the far distance. Their pace was rather slow, and their footfalls echoed eerily. Although Aragorn had suspected it to be a hall, the place felt rather strange to Legolas. The darkness in Moria was different, and the halls there were swarming with orcs and other foul creatures. Here, there was no palpable evil, only a chilling void that was haunting in its silence. As they walked, he tried to make out the substance of the walls--if one could call solid darkness a wall--but so far he couldn't see anything beyond the black. In fact, if he had only absolute faith in his keen elven vision, he would think that the walls around them were swirling, and not at all as deceptively solid as the darkness made them out to be.

Belatedly, he noticed that Aragorn was about to touch it.

"Stop!" Legolas cried as he snatched his friend's hand back, not waiting for the man to catch himself before dragging them both to the relative safety of the path. There they stood, a frozen tableau for one dark moment, before Legolas collected his wits and gently pulled himself away from his friend.

His eyes darted to the blackness around them with new suspicion. "I don't believe that was wise, Estel." His voice was rather chiller than the dark, but he didn't notice. Aragorn, wide-eyed and still trying to grasp the fact that he had unwittingly put himself in danger, shook his head and hissed through gritted teeth, "They were calling me. I am sorry. I didn't realize, but they were calling me."

The elf frowned but thought not to push the subject further. He gave the deceptive dark walls his best heated glare, although in his eyes there was the faintest hint of fear also. There was only a mysterious invisible force that kept this shifting, shapeless blackness from swallowing them whole. He knew not what made it so, or if someone, anyone, was protecting them. At the moment, he felt only gratitude and relief that he had stopped his friend in time.

Legolas shivered then.

"Hold fast, Estel, and heed not the voices. The path is not as wide as we thought, so we must stay close."

"Do you know something about this place then, Legolas?" asked Aragorn, as the elf drew up beside him.

"I am not quite sure."

Legolas frowned in thought. There was this story he remembered vaguely, that his father had told him once years and years ago, when he was very very young. "I may have heard of a place. It was a passageway of souls, of dead mortal Men."

Aragorn's grey eyes sharpened at this. "What was it called?"

"This passage between the realm of the living and the dead, I once heard, was called The Hollow Place."

- - - - -

"The Hollow Place," repeated Aragorn, and perhaps Legolas didn't hear it quite right, because the words did not echo through the walls. Rather, it had seemed that the darkness had absorbed it.

"Aye," he said, trying to ignore the dread sinking to the pit of his stomach. "The way inbetween worlds, where the dead pass through."

There was a lengthy breath of quiet, one that grew and stretched sinuously as they walked on, and then-

"Are we..?" burst Aragorn.

"I do not know," replied Legolas, eager to beat back the pernicious silence. "The Firstborn are destined for Valinor. Elves have very little knowledge of what transpires for the other children of Illuvatar. The Dwarves we know to return to the rocks, the Orcs mayhap are reconciled with the Light, but Men…Men pass through the Hall of Mandos, briefly, and then are sent to a place I do not know."

A short pause. "Neither do I," Aragorn said. "But, forgive me friend, for elves--you?"

The elf in question sighed. "This is as much a mystery to me as to you, I'm afraid. If we ever get back, I'll be sure to reconsider my theories on the afterlife."

Aragorn held his smile back, and the journey continued in tense silence.

"Estel, look! The light grows larger and brighter. It is a doorway, I am sure of it now."

Aragorn hadn't realized that his head was drooping, but when he raised his eyes to the bright speck that was their beacon of hope, he found himself surrounded by a different kind of brightness. He looked around him, and oddly, he knew he should not be afraid.

The brightest stars littered a clear night sky, and his boots rested on solid wood, that gently rocked with the waves of the sea. Aragorn was momentarily caught in the strangeness of this phenomenon, standing in dumbstruck awe at the bridge of what appeared to be a boat of elven make. He was fully aware that Legolas was not by his side, but strangely this did not concern him. At the moment, all that mattered was that he felt safe and at peace.

-----

"Young Greenleaf..."

Legolas hadn't realized that his eyes were closed until he opened them, to a forest of light and splendor.

"Young Greenleaf," said a youthful, light-hearted and strangely familiar voice. "Welcome home."

His warm hands rested on smoothened rock. The cool surface of the boulder felt refreshingly comfortable to sit on. There was a small waterfall tinkling merrily nearby, and the water flowed against and through the boulder he sat on. Aragorn was nowhere to be found, and yet he knew that everything was all right. And he was not alone, for there was a boy, a young elfling, sitting beside him.

"Who are..." Legolas started, but then something made him pause. The young elf wore a smile as warm as the sun, and his golden locks, unbraided, fell gracefully from the crown of his head like a glowing halo. His eyes, blue as a night sky, was filled with the brilliance of the oldest stars. "You...you are..." Legolas managed to choke out, his face pale from shock--or was it overwhelming awe--and he was about to turn his eyes away from the vision, when the elfling lad reached out a hand to draw him by his chin and face him once again.

"Mae govannen, young Thranduillion," he said, and his voice was clearer and cooler than the waterfall. Unexpectedly, he inclined his head forward--a short, informal bow for greeting. "I am Mandos."

-----

"Ho, Aragorn son of Arathorn!"

It was all Aragorn could do not to jump in fright. Someone just clapped him on the back, rather heavily. His breath nearly left his lungs, though he managed to turn to face his would-be assailant. He never expected it to be a bear of a man--no, an elf--who without the slightest hint of a warning engulfed him in the most terrifying hug of his life.

"Careful! You great buffoon! You're going to crush him!"

At once, Aragorn felt the huge arms around him relax, and his boots touched solid ground once more. Without even meaning to, he sighed in relief.

"Mae govannen, Master Estel," a new voice, from behind the great big elf, greeted him with polite cheer. "I apologize in behalf of Master Feanor here, who had the misfortune of being taught manners by the dwarves."

Feanor, the elf right in front of him, threw back his shoulders and head and let out a loud guffaw. "Ha! And who told you that fork-tongued lie?" And then, with a distinct whoosh of air, his body snapped back to the front and for an instant Aragorn thought he was going to be head-butted to his doom. But then, at the last moment, the huge elf's body folded into a regal bow with such unexpected grace that Aragorn, born and raised with proper ettiquette of elves and men, was rendered speechless.

"Well, boy, were you raised by mountain men?"

It took a moment for poor Aragorn to register that Feanor was standing again—looming, in fact—and was staring at him with the most piercing soul-blue eyes.

Fortunately, the future king's manners finally kicked in and he managed a slow and slightly awkward bow. "A great honor to have met the Noldor elf of fame, creator of the Silmarils. I, Aragorn son of Arathorn, am at your humble service."

A great big hand lay gently on his shoulder for a brief moment. When Aragorn looked up, it was to Feanor nodding solemnly in approval. His voice was grave when he declared, "This boy knows his history."

From somewhere behind him, the softest hint of a snigger was carried off by the wind.

"I am at your service as well, son of Arathorn," spoke the pilot of the ship. He stepped out from behind Feanor's bear-sized frame and executed a graceful bow. "I am Earendil, the Mariner."

Things would have been pleasantly smooth had Earendil not tripped on Feanor's toes.

"By Illuvatar! Watch where you put your flat feet!"

To the great confusion of Aragorn, he watched as Earendil turned swiftly to face Feanor, and the two proceeded to pour vitriol in abundance from their mouths.

"Flat feet? Well if YOUR eyes weren't half the time getting crossed by that MY Silmaril, sailor-boy—"

"Why did Manwe have to pick YOU? By the Valar, I swear I'll have Elwin peck on you—"

"Shame on you to bring your wife--"

"Don't be talking to me about shame, or I'll have you overboard--"

"I can THROW you overboard, and gladly! That's your mother's blood talking, you half-elven sea dog!"

For some reason, although it was likely to be an irrational one, Aragorn felt that the two would never come to blows, even though they look and sound like brewing for a fight. Or perhaps it was just this odd soul-weariness he felt that was holding him back, forcing him to withdraw, to stand still and quiet... It was nothing as bad as being in The Hollow Place--the noise was keeping him alert, too--but he found himself, with an unexpected pang, wishing that Legolas was around.

- - - - -

Legolas sat on his rock, quietly munching on a strange fruit and drinking from a cup of what seemed to be some very, very old elven wine. Beside him, Mandos sat quietly, with a pleasant smile on his young and amiable elven face. It was all certainly peaceful, but Legolas couldn't help feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, like something, some miniscule grain essential to the harmony of this moment, was missing.

It didn't occur to the elven prince that he was frowning until Mandos himself pointed it out.

Legolas thought he'd rather get it over with and asked forthright, "My Lord, where is my friend, Estel?"

For the briefest instant, the Valar's eyes glimmered.

"Straight to the point, you always were." His smile was infectious, and Legolas couldn't help but grin, though he had the grace to look embarassed.

"He is in good hands, my son." This caused the elf to sit upright and look attentive. It made Mandos want to laugh, though he managed to cover it with a wry grin.

"He is with Earendil the Mariner, and Master Feanor of the Noldor Elves."

The news amazed Legolas, though outwardly he appeared contented to hear of Aragorn's safety.

"Now that I have answered your question, will you answer one of mine?"

Mandos' voice snapped Legolas out of his reverie. His host's sudden talkativeness puzzled him.

"Ah…did you find the food and drink to your liking?"

The question genuinely surprised the elf, though he quickly answered, "Yes, my lord. You are a most generous host."

Mandos nodded. "I'm not quite sure about the fruit…I may have to ask Yavanna about its name again. But I believe the wine is a fine vintage…"

Legolas couldn't really understand what the Valar he was talking about. Mandos may have noticed his baffled expression, because he stopped his mumbling and gave another radiant smile.

"They were necessary for you, in order to survive the hollow realms. This fruit brings you to life, and the drink makes you regain your senses. Only the living can pass through the doorway, you see."

Legolas brightened up at hearing this, and he eagerly asked, "Will we be able to return to our world, if we pass through this door?"

Mandos' smile grew wider, but his eyes glimmered strangely.

Legolas thought that the Valar was feeling sad, but Mandos took hold of his shoulder and uttered, "Fair thee well, young prince Legolas. I shan't forget you, nor your dearest friend, Estel. We shall meet again, in due time." And then the Valar's eyes sparkled, and the world turned white.

- - - - -

It took a long, long while before Feanor finally settled down. Well, actually, Earendil had just stopped talking after a few harsh expletives were thrown his way, and then Feanor had had to deal with a stone wall. The sailor proved to be imperturbable, when he wished to be left alone; Aragorn thought that the sea had probably taught him that.

When finally Feanor gave up on grumbling, he turned to where Aragorn was standing, leaning quietly to the side of the ship, and walked resolutely to him with a bright smile. For a moment, Aragorn thought of leaping overboard. The elf's eyes were still sharp and fiery from the earlier exchange with Earendil.

_Don't bother yet, Aragorn. We have to push you overboard later, anyway._

These words confused the man, but he was sufficiently startled by Feanor's presence in his mind that he was nevertheless safely rooted to the spot. He desperately willed the words away, so he wouldn't have to appear so embarassedly confused when he came face to face with the elf.

When Feanor got to him, the elf's smile was as bright as ever. "Neat trick, eh? A little gift from Manwe, call it a bonus for this small service."

Aragorn didn't know what to say to that, so he kept quiet. He saw Feanor pull out something from his pocket.

"Here," he said. "Manwe orders you to drink this," Feanor handed him a small wine flask, "and eat this," and then he gave him some brown lump that looked like a strange fruit, "so you can go home."

Without a thought, Aragorn hastily unscrewed the flask and took long gulps of what apparently tasted like wine, and then he gingerly bit into the fruit and found it had a sharp, tangy sweetness.

"I don't know what it's called. I'll have to ask Yavanna about it," Feanor offered, with a shrug.

Aragorn was a bit taken aback by his sudden hunger and thirst. "Thank you," he said, then bit into more of the fruit. And then a thought struck him. "Wait! You said I should be able to go home after this. How about my friend, Legolas? Do you know where he is?"

Feanor smiled, "Legolas Greenleaf of Greenwood, you say? He should be with—" and then Feanor looked up to the night sky, as if consulting something in the stars, then continued, "Mandos, no doubt. Lucky catch, that one!" He exclaimed, patting Aragorn heartily on the shoulder. This puzzled the man. The greatest of the Noldor was one very strange elf.

When Aragorn finished his fruit and wine, Feanor gamely took the flask from him and gave him a ball of cloth. Aragorn thanked him, and began to wipe his hands, when Feanor said, "That's from me, by the way. A little parting gift."

The elf winked, and to Aragorn's great surprise Feanor stepped towards him and shoved him overboard. The man fell with a mighty splash.

"Take very good care of your friend, oh King of Men! Elbereth is quite fond of him!" The elf called out as Aragorn struggled to swim. The swell of the water was dragging at his feet, and his clothes were weighing him down as well. He barely caught Feanor's last words.

"Trust your heart, friend, and don't turn love away!"

And then the water swallowed him.

* * *

Disclaimer: The characters Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter belong to their respective owner. I'm just a poor soul who has a critical writing condition.  



	3. Chapter 2: The Doorway of Light

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**Chapter 2**

* * *

Legolas found himself standing before a massive archway of light. He wasn't really surprised, having had a feeling that something like this would happen, but the view he beheld still took his breath away. He tilted his head up as far as it would go, trying to obtain a measure of the towering spectacle. The roiling blackness that dominated The Hollow Place visibly recoiled from its brilliance, which reassured the elf immensely. If he wasn't mistaken, this would be the same bright star that shed light on the path he and Aragorn had walked earlier. Legolas thanked Mandos under his breath, and then noticed that Aragorn was presently beside him, looking a bit more bedraggled, but otherwise at ease with himself. Legolas instantly recognized this particular calmness of Aragorn's as being a resolved one, and the elf smiled inwardly, thinking, 'Estel is himself again—a Man with a plan.'

"The Valar works in mysterious ways," muttered Aragorn.

"Mae govannen," Legolas said, startling Aragorn from his reverie, and grinned. "And how was Master Feanor and Master Earendil?"

Aragorn cocked his head to the side and gave Legolas a curious frown. "Master Feanor? Definitely one very strange elf." Legolas raised one delicate eyebrow. Aragorn continued, in a slightly exasperated tone, "Well, he and Master Earendil bickered a lot. I just hope they are getting along right now."

"That's interesting," remarked Legolas. Aragorn snorted.

"I suppose you had better time then. _You_ don't look like you've been pushed overboard by _Master _Feanor."

"Oh, so that's why you look terrible!" teased the elf. Aragorn snickered, recalling an old joke.

"At least I'm not late this time."

Legolas guffawed.

"I'm just thankful we had their help," Legolas said, sobering up the conversation. He gestured at the brilliant, tall archway. "I don't think we could have gotten this far otherwise."

"The Gate to the Hollow Place," Aragorn mused aloud. "Is that why we were given food and drink?"

"Yes," said Legolas. "Mandos told me. Fruit for life, and wine to regain the senses." A hesitant pause, and then, "The fruit was, well—"

"Terribly unpleasant, yes," Aragorn filled in smoothly. He shook his head in mock-sadness, "And only Yavanna knows why."

"Which reminds me," and the man reached into his pocket, "Feanor gave me something."

He was about to pull out the ball of cloth when Legolas stopped him with a hand. "Wait! I hear something…"

"Ungh…"

Twin looks of worry crossed their faces. Aragorn looked around, and so did Legolas, and as one they spotted the apparent cause of the groaning noise.

"Ungh…Harry…"

There was a black bundle of rags by the side of the archway. It was quite close to the menacing shadows that lurked just beyond the edge of the light, and this definitely alarmed both elf and man. Legolas was faster, and soon he had scooped up the prone form and darted back to where Aragorn stood waiting.

"What is it, Legolas?" In lieu of a reply, the elf drew the tattered folds of the robe back, to reveal the gaunt face of a man.

"A man!" exclaimed the elf.

"He is weak," spoke Aragorn anxiously, kneeling by the elf to make his diagnosis. Legolas moved aside to allow his friend more room, and watched worriedly as Aragorn quickly located the mystery man's pulse.

Aragorn sighed in tentative relief. "Barely alive, but alive nonetheless," said he. Legolas' fists unclenched—it gave him a terrible fright, to have seen the shadows almost devour the man's spirit.

"It will be a while to revive him, and he must keep warm. Also, he needs food and drink to strengthen his will."

At this, Legolas frowned. "But we have no food with us."

Aragorn took the wad of cloth from his pocket and handed it to Legolas. Then he unclasped his cloak and draped it over the strange man they had just rescued, with the elf wordlessly following suit.

After that, Aragorn said, "Look into the bundle, my friend. I have a feeling it's just what we need."

To his surprise, Legolas found just exactly what Aragorn suspected: a small lump of the same fruit he and Estel had eaten, and a clear glass vial of wine, which Legolas assumed very likely to be what they had drunk earlier too. Inwardly, he wondered at the strangeness of it all. He could not help but suspect that someone Up there had this all planned out, perhaps even Master Feanor. Aragorn had told him earlier that he thought the greatest of the Noldor to be very strange. Legolas, in a moment's reflection, wondered if he were, indeed.

* * *

It took some time for the strange man to wake up, which the other two spent in relatively comfortable silence. There was not much to say anyway, and both had unconsciously dedicated their attention to willing their strength into the man lying between them. Both sat cross-legged to either side, and were hunched over the man's pale, almost-emaciated face, when a low moan erupted from him.

Long black lashes fluttered open, making Legolas unconsciously hold his breath, as fathomless grey eyes stared right back at him. He knew that the man sought anchor for his vision to focus, and slowly but surely, the elf witnessed the mysterious stranger's eyes grow from hazy and dull to clear and sharp, and something else, something Legolas was saddened and worried to see—the man's gaze had grown fearful.

Before the elf could speak a word, the man managed to croak, "Is this hell?"

There was an awfully awkward silence, as Aragorn and Legolas pondered what to say to that.

Legolas was thinking, 'What or where is this _hell_?', and was about to voice that when Aragorn said, "You are safe, friend."

It was perhaps the better thing to say, because it earned Aragorn a very surprised reaction from the strange man, who suddenly tried to get up. Legolas had to catch his head before he hit his skull and passed out again. This also had the effect of making the man notice Legolas for the second time, and clearer than ever.

"You…" the man croaked. "Aren't you familiar?"

Legolas brow furrowed in confusion.

"I saw you…" the man continued, "in a dream…I think. Yes…you, you lifted me up." The grey eyes were wide and alert, and across from the man, Aragorn gave his elven friend a curious look. "You saved me…you saved me from the—" the man swallowed, "—the shadows…"

Legolas set the man's head down gently, but the latter would not be deterred. He rose up, sitting up fully this time, which seemed to take all of his strength and effort to do, and snatched the nearest of Legolas' hands and held it up, gripping it strongly. "This isn't a dream then. I'm not in hell. You saved my life. You did! I, Sirius Black, owe you my life!"

* * *

Right after introducing themselves to Sirius Black, Aragorn had presented him with the fruit and wine. After the first bite, the food seemed to have completely occupied the strange man, and Legolas and Aragorn just sat back, observing him quietly.

"Boy! Someone must definitely love me up there," Sirius spoke, his words muffled by the fruit in his mouth. It was too small to be considered a meal, but his hunger seemed oddly sated now. He gave the vial a mock-appraising eye, before tossing it up in one go.

"Merlin! This is bloody good wine, if I may say so!"

Aragorn smiled. "You can thank Feanor of the Noldor for that. I'm not sure how to measure the worthiness of your praise, but I suspect Master Feanor is odd enough to appreciate it." Aragorn caught Legolas' brief puzzled look. The man let out a guffaw when he realized that he had voiced that last thought.

Odd? Legolas thought to himself. Certainly, there was much atypicalness about Feanor of the Noldor. Whenever they talked about him, if ever at all, when Legolas was learning the history of his kind, never was it failed to be mentioned that Master Feanor was an eccentric and a maverick, among other things. They said he towered above others, and carried himself in an unusual fashion most contrary to the conservatives, or even the most liberal elves—and considering the fact that the Noldor were regarded as the most liberal of elvenkind… Legolas hated to admit it, but he felt slightly envious that Aragorn had gotten to meet that one great elf that piqued his curiosity the most, all those years ago.

"I suppose I should tell you now why you found me where I was," spoke Sirius, bringing Legolas out of his own thoughts.

The two friends shared a look before turning to Sirius, who began his tale.

"I wasn't actually dead when I got here. You see," he gestured to the enormous archway of light," at the other side of this, there's this is archway too—smaller, starker, more… forbidding, with a black veil hanging from it, obscuring what lies Beyond. I was…in a battle, with some dangerous ex-convicts. I was trying to protect my godson and rescue him. And then I was dueling with my cousin, and she…hit me…and then I fell through the Veil…" There was a faraway look in Sirius' grey eyes, like he was reliving the dark memory.

Asked Aragorn, "When did this happen?"

"I don't remember now… It could have been days, weeks, or even months! When I fell, I tried to get back, but—it's like a wall! The light…I could hear their voices, after the battle, and then the quiet…there was only so much quiet, then finally, I guess I lost track of time."

Now Sirius tried to pierce the darkness surrounding them, that closed upon the doorway of light like a suffocating shroud. But it was all for naught. He continued, "There isn't any proper sense of time here, I think." His thoughts then drifted to Harry, and with a pang he realized that the boy must be grieving, so lonely again.

Legolas' brow furrowed when he felt Sirius' silence degenate into depression. The dry laugh from the man surprised him then, making him worry all the more.

"I left my godson behind, you know," grey eyes filled with anguish pinned Aragorn to the ground. There was so much suffering behind those eyes, and he should know. He was familiar with that look. He had been wearing it for the past several weeks, back in Middle Earth, after all.

"Oh, Harry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Sirius cried, burying his face in his hands. Aragorn and Legolas felt the grief and anguish flowing out of the man so acutely, as if it were their own. But when the elf reached out tentatively to try to comfort Sirius, Aragorn stopped him with a look and a silent shake of his head. Legolas realized then that it was well to have the courage to face one's own demons. And in Sirius' case, if anything really bad happens, he still had his two new friends to help him.

"I went to school with my godson's father. We were friends, the four of us: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. We were the happiest, the cleverest, the most mischievous students in Hogwarts. I still can't believe it all ended so horribly. Peter—Wormtail, he betrayed us. He betrayed Lily and James. He betrayed Harry. And now that Voldemort is back, Harry's in danger again. And Wormtail—Wormtail is still alive! Fucking traitorous rat! I want to hex his insides out and squeeze his throat until he squeals like the despicable rodent he really is!

"I've been so careless. I've left Harry alone, without a thought, chasing after Wormtail and getting framed for his crimes. Supremely stupid of me, really. I've gone and wasted away in Azkaban, wasted my life for 12 long years, a life I could have lived with Harry. I've been too careless…

"And now, I've gone and done it again. I tried to be a hero for him, I really did. I'm such a bone-headed Gryffindor, you know. Always trying to be the dashing knight for my godson. And I had thrown my life away. I let cousin Bella stun me and then I was through the Veil," he snapped his fingers, "like that! All in a heartbeat. And not even really a year with Harry. Always in hiding, always as Padfoot, always running away from the law…"

The depression seemed to be winding down, and Legolas and Aragorn tried not to shift too much in their seats despite the uncomfortable silence.

When Sirius looked up, there were tears in his eyes. He was sniffling slightly, and his cheeks were puffy. At first all Legolas could think about was how tragically sad and lonely this man, Sirius, had lived. But then he became puzzled, because for some unknown reason he started to feel relieved too. Sirius had stopped being too emotional and Legolas and Aragorn had both unwittingly drawn closer to him, when the elf noticed the blossoming red in Sirius' cheeks, the thrum of life in his blood. The two reached the same conclusion on their own; that their newfound friend, whom they had rescued from the grip of death, was looking more alive than ever. It made Legolas smile.

Aragorn spoke the cheering news, "Rejoice, friend Sirius. You've been given another chance at life."

Sirius eyes widened, and he blinked back the last of his tears.

"Yes, Sirius. Look at you. You're looking well and alive again," Aragorn commented. For some strange unfathomable reason, this made Sirius blush. He had to wonder at the rush of heat to his cheeks. Heat! It felt great, this warmth within. Only now that he was out of the cold did he realize how much he'd missed it.

"Bloody hell! It's the fruit and wine, isn't it?" Sirius wide eyes were sparkling-- literally sparkling-- with happiness. "Bloody—do you know what this means?"

"Oh, pretty much." Aragorn said, grinning. "You get to go through the Doorway of Light, for one."

Legolas added, "I believe Master Feanor had meant for this to happen. Apparently, you have some friends in high places."

Sirius grinned back at him. "Oh, I wouldn't know, really. Is he the mischievous type, perhaps?"

Legolas eyes glittered with mirth. "Oh, very much," he replied.

"Well then, I think I get it perfectly now," Sirius said, and let out great peals of laughter that seemed to pierce even the darkest of shadows.

* * *

Aragorn and Legolas helped Sirius get up on his wobbly legs. They waited patiently for the man to get himself sorted out, watching him as he tried to straighten his robes. Legolas examined the man's garb discreetly. His robes were quite worn, and much like what Gandalf would himself wear during his days as Mithrandir the Grey Pilgrim. But Sirius' robes were of a finer material, and he was wearing matching black trousers underneath them, with a pair of boots that have seen better days.

He watched as Sirius pulled something out of a fold in his clothes. It looked like a polished twig—it was, upon closer examination, indeed a piece of wood—and this made Legolas curiouser.

"What is that?" He asked, startling Sirius. This caught Aragorn's attention and his eyes settled on the curious little stick as well.

"Um…er…"Sirius seemed hesitant, but after a moment's debate, he settled for telling them the truth. "It's my wand."

"Your…wand?"

"You know, a wizard's wand. Magic—does it ring a bell?"

"Magic?" Legolas wondered.

"Wizard!" Aragorn cried. "You're a wizard and you didn't tell us?"

Legolas eyes widened at this. "You're like Gandalf then. A Maiar!"

Sirius frowned. "Er…what's a Maiar?"

"They're what Men call wizards in our world—in Middle Earth."

Sirius' frown only deepened. This gave away the truth to his companions, and they visibly deflated. "Oh, sorry, guys. I'm not from your world. I'm from a place called Earth. And I am not sure really what you people know about wizards, but you seem to be holding them in great esteem. I don't think that holds true for the types in my world, except for a few."

"Oh, I see," Aragorn looked a bit crestfallen. Legolas caught his eye, then he said, "You know, Estel, I was always wondering where Gandalf went before he became White."

Aragorn just shook his head. It was just too good to be true. If Sirius had been like Gandalf, perhaps he wouldn't have been stuck here in the first place. There was always the grace of the Valar to consider, and that, Aragorn knew, they had at least the fortune to have.

"Wizard or not, I do believe we all have the chance to return home, Legolas." He glanced at Sirius, who was doing something odd with his stick. "Whether it was by the Valar's grace, or Feanor's kindness."

"Thank the Valar we can all go home now," was all Legolas said to that.

A sudden bright flash of light blinded them. When the black spots in their vision faded, man and elf turned to glare at Sirius.

"What in Arda was that?" asked Legolas.

"Oops, sorry! Was just testing it out. Never worked here before, you see. I guess I have to thank you and your buddy Feanor for that," Sirius replied with a sheepish grin.

Legolas looked to Aragorn, who just shrugged. "Well then," Sirius said, walking towards the archway. The others followed to stand on either side of him. "It's been wonderful knowing you chaps. I hope you get back to your world safely. And that goes for me, too." Sirius took a deep breath, which the others unknowingly mimicked. "Not really sure how this works out, but I'm not planning on prolonging my vacation here. What do you think is behind that door?"

Aragorn shrugged and took hold of Sirius' left hand in his. Legolas took the right. He was looking intently at the light, trying to find clues as to what lay beyond. Unwittingly, Sirius tightened his clasp on both hands.

Finally, it was Legolas who spoke. "Just believe," he said. And they all stepped into the light.


End file.
